House Of The Heart
by Bird of All Fandoms
Summary: What if Draco hadn't become a Slytherin? What if he had been put into Gryffindor, and went through his years there with Harry, Ron, and Hermione as his dearest friends? Welcome to House of the Heart. (Drarry context, but these are mostly the adventures Draco has in Gryffindor. Written for everyone who wanted their favorite Slytherin to have a better lot in life.)
1. 1st Year- The Sorting Hat

AN/ **Hello Potterheads, and welcome to the start of a beautiful story! This collection of one-shots will be stories of Draco's adventures if he had been sorted into Gryffindor. I got this idea from a prompt on the internet, and well, I ran with it. For the sake of me not having to rewrite the entire canon series, I'm mostly going to be ignoring the canon series and just focusing on snippets into his life. There will be some mention of it, but hey, I'll get around to rewriting the series someday. This isn't going to in 1st to 8th year order, I'll be bouncing around all over the shop. Oh, last thing you should know. Since Draco is now in Gryffindor, he won't have such a volatile rivalry with Harry, but some aspects of it will hang around... alright, let's go!**

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling, in case you didn't notice that already.

* * *

"Gryffindor!" For a few seconds, Draco was too stunned to even think. Then, slowly, the insane cheers of the Gryffindor table flooded his ears. He blinked, staring out over the people who would now be his housemates. A smile began to spread over his face, even though several people at the Slytherin table were glaring stonily at him.

It had happened. He had broken the family tradition. He wasn't stuck in the rut he had thought he would be. He wasn't following the line his mother, his father, everyone had hoped for him.

His father. Oh Merlin, his father. His father was going to kill him. Come to the school and hunt him down. He wasn't going to survive a day.

Draco stood from the stool, walking down the stairs. The crowd parted for him, some staring at him with wide eyes, some glaring at him, and the rest smirking at him, like they had expected as much. Though Draco didn't think that could be possible. Why would anyone think he'd be anything other than a Slytherin?

He slid onto the edge of the table, feeling oddly shy. Normally, he would fit into any conversation he chose. But that had been when he thought he was going to Slytherin and might as well make the most of it. Now, he was a Gryffindor. He was a Gryffindor. He was going to have to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

"Draco Malfoy, is it?" Draco looked up, surprised. A girl with long, curly brown hair was looking across the table at him, her head tilted to one side.

"Yes," he said quietly. "But I don't think I'll be a Malfoy for much longer." The girl grinned brightly.

"Even if that isn't the case-" She stuck out a hand, almost knocking over a goblet. "Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you." Draco blinked, then shook the head, albeit a little hesitantly. Hermione grinned again, gently dropped his hand. "Don't worry, I try not to judge the person by the cover. I mean, look who I'm sitting next to." Draco did, and tried his best not to cringe. The Weasley boy was looking at him like he couldn't decide he wanted to hand Draco over to the Slytherin table or just ignore him.

Draco took a deep breath, then held out his hand. "Draco. Good to meet you." The Weasley boy jerked, like he hadn't expected Draco to even acknowledge him. He let out a long-suffering sigh, then shook Draco's hand.

"Ron Weasley," he grumbled, and Draco let a small smile creep over his features. That he could work with. It might take some time, but he could work with that. Finally, he turned to the person next to him and tried not to die of embarrassment. Harry Potter looked back at him, his eyes shimmering with faint curiosity. Draco didn't say anything, instead just holding out a hand. Harry examined the offered peace treaty, then looked up at him.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself." It took Draco a few seconds to see the smile lurking at the corners of Harry's mouth. And it seemed that Hermione and Ron didn't see it at all, judging by how wide their eyes were. He smirked, pulling his hand back.

"Alright, if that's the way you want it," he said, stifling a laugh as Harry waved a hand at him.

"Yes, it is." Ron and Hermione looked between the two of them, mouths open slightly, but Draco didn't care. He could already see what his friendship with Potter would be like. Now his only concern was food. He looked over at the students yet to be sorted, sighing dramatically. Could they hurry up? He wanted his dinner.

* * *

"That was my foot!" Draco howled as he yanked said appendage out from under one of his new housemates. "Be more careful, Weasel!"

Said housemate, Ron, snickered, but didn't move his chest, which he had dropped in the middle of the room. Right on top of Draco's foot. He huffed, then crossed the room and flopped onto the bed he had already decided was his. No one else seemed to want a bed by the window, but Draco liked seeing the grounds and watching the sky.

Suddenly, a loud clunk sounded from the bed on the other side of the window. Draco peered over and was surprised to see Harry setting up his things. The other boy glanced over his shoulder, like he had sensed Draco was watching him. His eyes met Draco's' briefly, then returned to his task.

"Hey, the Gryffindor are throwing a party!" Draco looked up as Seamus stumbled into the room, his eyes shining with excitement. "They're ecstatic to have gotten Harry Potter and a Malfoy!" Draco didn't really feel like celebrating. He was still dreading his father learning that he had gotten into Gryffindor. Besides, he didn't know what the other Gryffindors would think of him.

"I'm good," he said at the same time Harry said, "I'll pass." He glanced over at the other boy, raising an eyebrow. "Really? I would have you'd be down there partying, Potter." Harry just looked back at him, and much like before, Draco thought he saw a silent message in those green eyes. _I'm staying up here for the same reason you are. I don't like being known just because of my name_.

"Oh come on, Harry!" Ron jumped onto the other boy's bed and bouncing slightly. Harry laughed, but said,

"No, Ron, I'm not going down." The other boys in the room glanced at each other, then surged forward, grabbing Harry and dragging him towards the door. "Wha-! Hey! Let me go, guys!"

"Nope, you're having fun with us," Dean said, grinning widely. For the very first time since he'd arrived here at Hogwarts, Draco was very happy people sometimes left him alone because of his name. Harry gave Draco a panicked look, but Draco just shrugged. His choice. If put in that situation, Draco would have just gone downstairs, then snuck back up when he got the chance.

Draco went back to unpacking, half listening as the other Gryffindors generally had a good time. He was fine not being there. Maybe once he felt he fit in more, he'd join them at one of their parties. But for now, he'd take the quiet and think.

Or maybe he'd have too much time to think.

* * *

Draco looked up as the door to the dorm creaking open. He raised his eyebrows as Harry snuck in, his face screwed in a half grimace. The dark-haired boy eased the door shut, letting out a breath as it clicked closed. Draco glanced out the window. Harry had barely been gone a half an hour.

"Weren't you having fun, Potter?" Even if Harry was too shocked to reply to his comment, Draco got a kick out of Harry's terrified expression. He couldn't help but chuckle as the boy sighed.

"Yes, I was," Harry drawled, and Draco looked back down at his book with a grin.

"Honestly, I thought you Gryffindors knew how to have a good time," he said, flipping a page. He didn't have to look up to imagine Harry's face as he snorted.

"You're a Gryffindor too, Malfoy. Don't you know how to have a good time?" Draco rolled his eyes. He set down his book, then grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at the dark-haired boy. Harry laughed, picking up one of his own pillows and hurling that at Draco. He coughed as Harry's pillow connected with his gut, and he glared up at the other boy.

"I hate you, Potter."

"Same to you, Malfoy."

Considering what they'd just said, Draco was mildly surprised when he went back to reading and Harry continuing unpacking his things. But at the same time, it felt only natural.

Maybe being in Gryffindor wasn't going to be as horrible as he had thought.

* * *

 **And end the prologue. Well, what did you guys think? Please leave me a review and let me know your thoughts! It only takes a few seconds and it will improve both our lives, as I'll be a better writer because of it, and you'll get better works. Bird out!**


	2. 5th Year- Life of a Gryffindor

AN/ **And welcome to the first official story in this series! So, again, some of the dynamics of Draco's relationships with the Golden Trio will be different since he's in Gryffindor. Don't freak out, I'm trying my best to keep him in character. Alright, enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. Surely you know this by now?...

* * *

For once, Draco was enjoying a dreamless sleep. He preferred resting without his mind racing in every direction, forcing him to create dreams and trying to interpret them. Slowly, he became aware that he was waking up, but he didn't mind. His housemates were quiet, so it still had to be early. He sighed happily, rolling onto his stomach and pulling his blanket up to his chin. It was Sunday, he didn't have to get up yet.

Then something soft flopped onto his face. Draco immediately snapped to awareness, and his brain went into panic mode at the heat and darkness. He sat bolt upright, flailing wildly.

"Get off-!" Draco ripped the blanket off his head, instinctively throwing it at the foot of his bed. He was rewarded with a surprised grunt, followed by quiet laughter. Draco glared at the dark-haired boy that stood at the end of his bed, sides heaving silently. "That's not funny. What time is it?..." He glanced out the window, gritting his teeth as he took in the position of the sun. "It's not even 8. Why am I up, Potter?" Then he frowned. "Why are you up?" Harry sighed, gesturing across the room to where Ron was happily asleep. And happily snoring. "Oh."

"Yeah." Harry flopped onto Draco's bed, laying across his legs. Draco said nothing. He was used to this type of behavior from the shorter boy. But he was still confused.

"Why did you wake me up?" Harry glanced up at him, and light flashed on his glasses as he grinned.

"Was just too good to resist." Draco sighed.

"Move." Harry blinked. "Yes, I said move. You can stay there for all I care, but you woke me up, so I want to start my day." Without a word, the dark-haired boy rolled over, and Draco reclaimed his legs. "Thank you." He stood, stretching out with a groan. Quidditch had not been kind to him yesterday. He shuffled across the dorm, not even flinching as a pillow thumped against his back. He had expected as much.

He went through his daily routine without thinking or saying much, as he was still half asleep and did not fancy mornings at all. But when he got to slicking his hair into its usual style, he frowned. His hair gel wasn't there. He snarled, sending a glare over his shoulder. Weasel. Despite how much he teased Draco about the care he put into his hair, Ron had started sneaking some of it. And now Draco was out. Great. He would have to remember to buy more from Hogsmeade next time he went.

"Looks like you'll just have to go out without your perfect hairstyle." Draco glanced up in the mirror, snorting at the boy leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Or I can just dump a pillow load of feathers on Weasel's face," he muttered peevishly, making Harry laugh quietly again. "Serves him right."

"Nah, Ron doesn't deserve it," Harry said, trotting into the bathroom so he was standing next to Draco. He held out a small container, one hand behind his back as he presented it and his mouth curved in an impish grin. "Oh, wait, you mean this. Right?"

"Potter, you're an unbelievable arse," Draco muttered, snatching his gel back and making Harry laugh for the fourth time that morning. That was probably a record.

Thankfully, Harry didn't interrupt Draco's routine any further, and he was out of the dorm within ten minutes. Normally, Harry and Ron would have joined him at breakfast, but this time, Harry was waiting for Ron to wake up. So Draco trotted through the common room alone, returning muted greetings. It seemed no one else was awake either. Then a girl in a jacket and jeans hopped up, falling into step beside him.

"Up already?" he asked incredulously. Hermione flashed him a quick grin.

"Unlike you boys, I happen to like to wake up early. It's better for me to get things done while it's still early."

"I'm fine with getting things done early," Draco grumbled. "I just need a cup of coffee to go with it." Hermione laughed.

"At least Ron gets up, you and Harry will just roll around until someone sends Buckbeak to get you." Draco didn't reply. In all honestly, he missed the hippogriff. It had been a good creature. Hermione nudged him lightly, and he snapped out of his thoughts.

"Nothing wrong with coffee," he persisted, and Hermione tilted her head, acknowledging his point. "Speaking of coffee. I'm going to need it, I still have to finish that essay for Herbology. I imagine you're done already?" Hermione nodded with a faint grin, and Draco rubbed his eyes. "I'm tempted to just bribe someone for theirs and damn the consequences."

"No!" Hermione objected immediately. "Cheating doesn't get you anywhere, Draco, you might as well just find a sixth year and ask them." Draco opened his mouth, but Hermione interrupted. "And no, don't even think about asking Ronald to help you with that. One, though he hates Herbology, he won't do it, and two, if Harry is anywhere nearby, he'll stop you."

 _I wouldn't be so sure,_ Draco thought, barely concealing a smile. He still hadn't told Hermione of the many times he and Harry, and occasionally Ron, had used Harry's cloak to sneak around the castle. Sometimes it was harmless things, like getting a little extra food from the kitchens, but other times, they had snuck into the library after hours to get in some last minute, desperate studying. Draco still hadn't forgiven Harry for almost getting them caught that one time, and he would bring it up when they were alone.

"Lovely day," Hermione commented as they entered the Great Hall. The ceiling showed a bright, blue sky, and Draco wondered if he could do his studying outside. "Oh." Draco looked around, confused since Hermione had just been happy. Then he followed her gaze and sighed. Most of the time, they would always sit at the same spot at the table. That was just the way it worked. But today, two Gryffindors that were getting very cuddly had taken it.

"Oh please," Draco muttered. "Get a room." He slinked past them, doing his best to resist the temptation to knock the guy's foot and send both of them tumbling off the bench. He managed to make it to a spot further down the table without giving in.

Hermione sat across from him, and she pulled a book out of her bag. Draco didn't know how anyone could appreciate toast while reading, but she seemed to accomplish it very well. Then again, she could just be taking bites because her stomach told her to. Draco would believe either idea.

For his part, Draco was also distracted as he ate. The last disappointed, angry, letter from his father had been almost a month ago. If he stayed true to form, Lucius would have written and sent one a few days ago, so Draco should get it tomorrow. Fantastic. He took a sip of his coffee, trying not to choke on it as he sighed.

"Oh, this is interesting." Draco looked up, watching as Hermione scanned the page a second time. "It says here that some plants have the ability to regenerate." Draco frowned, leaning across the table. His brain hurt from trying to read upside down, but he tried anyway. "There's a huge section about plants in here. You might do well from reading this, Draco."

"I'll add it to my pile," Draco mumbled into his coffee. He already had a stack of books sitting next to his bed, and while he didn't want anymore, he knew he needed all the help he could get. Herbology. Ugh. One of his least favorite subjects.

"You don't need a pile," Hermione said patiently, and Draco chuckled.

"Yes, I'm sure you think that. Unlike you, Hermione, I didn't read half the books in the library when I was in first year." Hermione looked mildly offended, and Draco laughed again. "Alright, I have to get to work." He slid the book towards him, picked up the rest of his bagel, and started towards the doors. "Later genius."

"Good luck, cheater." That sent Draco off with a smile. But he still started planning his course of action the second he stood. He wanted to sit with Hermione and fully enjoy his breakfast, as he enjoyed the debates and discussions he had with the brilliant witch, but sadly, he had too much to do. He would go for that old wizard's book first, then the more recent one by-

"Oomph!" Draco struggled to keep a hold on his book as someone crashed into him.

"Hey, watch where you're- Draco!" Draco looked up into the apologetic face of Ron Weasley. He would have insulted the redhead in some way, but he couldn't find the breath to. "Harry said you just came down, are you done already? Why do you have that book?"

"If you'd let me breathe, I'd tell you," Draco wheezed, and Ron scowled.

"Never mind, you're fine." Draco took several deep breathes, and Ron glanced over his shoulder. "Is Hermione still in there?"

"Yeah," Draco said, less irritated with the redhead now that he could breathe properly.

"Then why'd you eat so fast?" Draco hefted his book, flipping it open to the plant section. He tapped the page, and Ron's eyes widened. "Bloody hell, I forgot that was due!" Without another word, Ron raced into the Great Hall, calling Hermione's name as he went. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Either in a rush, or too lazy to move. Make up your mind, Weasel." He'd never given up the nickname he'd developed for the Weasley. By the same token, Ron occasionally called him Ferret, but Draco didn't care. He'd always liked ferrets.

Draco read the book he'd borrowed from Hermione as he walked back to the common room. He would have preferred to look out the windows as he went, as he liked watching the grounds, but he really did need all the time he could get. At this rate, he'd turn in a half finished, incoherent mess as his essay tomorrow.

"Oh Merlin, I'm doomed," Draco grumbled, barely sparing a breath for the Fat Lady. She swung open, and Draco stepped into the common room, his nose buried in his book. It was an odd feeling to have one's nose actually buried in a book, he thought. He sat on his favorite sofa, flipping the page as he went. Hermione was right. This was an interesting book. It made the knowledge he was cramming into his brain more bearable.

A blanket dropped over his head.

"Potter..." Draco growled, yanking the blanket off his head and lashing out. By sheer luck, he managed to whack the glasses off Harry's face, sending the dark-haired boy to the ground with them. "Serves you right," he scoffed, returning to his reading.

"Oh come off it, Malfoy, I know you're not that irritable," Harry said, retrieving his glasses.

"Aren't I?" Draco snapped, this time closing his book with a snap. It wasn't Harry's use of his last name that bothered him, it was just Harry's habit of doing small things to make Draco's life more difficult. It seemed to be the dark-haired boy's way of keeping him on his toes. It was irritating at the best of times and downright unbearable at times when Draco was in a panic.

But somehow, it also calmed his nerves. It was undeniable that out of their group, Draco and Harry went at it the most. Trying their best to outdo the other, bickering about the little things, and just generally sniping at each other. But Draco always found himself craving Harry's attention. And sometimes, Harry came up and sat next to him for no apparent reason.

At least it wasn't one-sided. That wouldn't have made it any easier to bear.

"Why aren't you down with Weasel and Hermione having breakfast?" Draco asked, shifting so Harry could sit next to him. The dark-haired boy shrugged, then flopped dramatically on the sofa next to him. Draco immediately felt a flicker of concern, but he pushed it away. Harry would eat if he wanted to.

"Just not hungry. What are you reading?" Harry peered over Draco's shoulder. He sighed, then shifted so Harry could read more easily. Draco was suddenly glad he and Harry read at about the same speed. Otherwise he'd be waiting for the dark-haired boy every page. So for the next hour or so, Harry to kept Draco company as he studied.

"Why are you taking notes?" Draco looked up, confused. They had been sitting in silence for long enough that he had forgotten Harry was next to him.

"What?" he asked. The dark-haired boy nodded at the parchment Draco had on his leg. His notes were scribbled, but after staying up enough nights to help Ron, he had learned to read messy writing.

"Because I have to write an essay once I'm done?" Draco said slowly, wondering why two of his friends had suddenly lost their memory. But unlike Ron, Harry's expression didn't change. Nor did he say anything. But Draco noticed that Harry started paying more attention to the notes he was writing after that.

By the time Draco finished the part of the plants section that applied to what he was studying, his eyes were burning, his mind was crammed full, and he had already used two pages of parchment.

"And I have six more books," Draco moaned, rubbing his eyes. A hand closed around his notes, whipping them away. Draco didn't even look up, he just held out a hand. "Potter, give me my notes back." Nothing happened." Draco sighed, getting a little irritated. "Potter, I need my notes." Still nothing.

"You want them?" Draco knew where the dark-haired boy was going before Harry even finished his sentence. "Then come get them."

"I don't have time for this," Draco growled, standing and advancing on the shorter boy. Harry grinned fiercely back at him, backpedaling towards the Fat Lady. Despite his growing irritation, Draco found a smile spreading across his face. "You want to play?" Where had that come from?

"You know I always win at chess." Harry was almost at the door now. And Draco could feel his legs getting ready to run. Really, when had this become normal?

"Oh, but surely you know, Potter. I let you win." Harry turned and sprinted out of the common room, Draco only a step behind. He sprinted around the portal, watching Harry's robes as he shot down the stairs. He grinned, almost tripping over his own robes as he went. A few pictures made snarky remarks as they ran by, but Draco ignored them. Most of the pictures just laughed at them, and those were the ones Draco smiled at as he flew by.

"Hey, watch it!" A Ravenclaw stumbled backwards as Harry whipped past her, and Draco couldn't find the breath to apologize as he passed her. He was having too much fun.

* * *

"I.. hate... you... Potter..." Draco gasped between breathes. He reached out weakly, trying his best to punch the dark-haired boy in the arm. Harry brushed him off, but he was gasping just as hard as Draco. Somehow, their chase had ended them up at the lake, with Draco sitting under a tree and Harry hunching over next to him. "Give... me... my... bloody... notes!"

Harry took a deep breath, then handed over said notes. Draco tried to snatch them back with a scathing look, but he ended taking them back gently and giving Harry something close to a thankful expression. The dark-haired boy waved a hand, then collapsed next to him.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a Quidditch player, Malfoy," Harry said, resting his head against Draco's shoulder.

"Same to you, Potter," Draco said, not even trying to push the other boy away. "And now I have to walk all the way back to the common room and continue studying. This did not help."

Harry gave Draco a faint grin. "But you had fun, didn't you?" Draco said nothing, and Harry laughed. "Yeah, you did."

"Shut up, Potter."

* * *

 **End this chapter. Thanks for reading! Please give your owls a review to drop off, and maybe send me some Honeydukes' chocolate. What? Writers gotta eat.**

 **And I want to get you guys involved in this story! If you have an idea for what one of these stories could be about, a prompt, a full-fledged idea, something like that, please leave that with your review! I'd love to hear what you want to read, and if I can think of a story around it, I'll publish that for you! But it has to be left in a review, and I would appreciate if you'd actually put some thought into that. I need feedback :). Until next time, Bird out!**


	3. 5th Year- Latin Vacation

AN/ **I'm baaaaack! Did you miss me? Of course you did! But you're here for the stories, so on to this chapter. Draco, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley family go on a vacation to Latin America. What could possibly happen? Ginny is of course present in this chapter, but sorry folks, this ain't a Hinny fic X). This story was based off a prompt I got from CrossMcCarthy, who reviewed and left their idea, just as I requested. Cross, you're awesome, and I hope you enjoy this!**

Disclaimer: And I'm like J.K. Rowling how?...

* * *

"Remind me why I'm packing shorts and tank tops when I'm standing here in long pants and a sweater," Draco sighed, closing his trunk with a thunk. Hermione glanced up from where she was reading, a smile creeping across her face.

"Because Ronald's parents invited us to go on their vacation with them," she said, returning to scanning the atlas she had open. "And they're being very vague about where we're going, just saying that we need clothes for warm weather."

"I know that, but somewhere warm is half the globe," Draco muttered, sitting on the guest room bed next to Hermione. "I don't know why you're bothering to try to figure out where we're going." She looked at him, her eyes shining.

"I'm trying because I want to know what language we're going to be speaking. It'd be amazing to learn a new language for this trip, Draco! Can you imagine understanding more than just English?" Draco tried not to grin at the brilliant witch. He could indeed, as he spoke Spanish and French, among other languages his father had made him learn. He had always loved learning new languages, so he had kept up his knowledge as best he could.

"I guess it'd be interesting," he settled for saying. Hermione bobbed her head eagerly, returning to her book. Draco chuckled, glancing around the room he'd lived in for the past few days to see if he had forgotten anything. Just his pillow, and he would grab that right before they left. "I wish I knew where we were going," he said, frowning. "I might be able to pack more appropriately. Right now, half my trunk is filled with things I might need."

"Mystery's over, they're gathering everyone downstairs." Draco looked up as Harry poked his head into the room. His glasses were halfway down his nose, and the slightly panicked look in his eyes made Draco curious.

"What, are they gathering everyone in the form of a riot?" Draco asked, standing and walking to the dark-haired boy. Harry nodded, and Draco reached out, straightening Harry's glasses. The other boy blinked a few times, then focused on Draco, grinning.

"Thanks. I needed that. And no, not a riot, just a large family. Remember, this is Ron's family we're talking about." Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry chuckled. "Oh come off it, only child Malfoy." Draco slid Harry's glasses back down his nose, then turned to Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione," he said gently, as he knew Hermione did not like being disturbed when reading. This time, however, she just looked up. "The heads of Weasley House are calling a meeting." She smiled at the inside joke, then closed her book, putting it on top of Draco's trunk. She joined them at the doorframe, and Draco waved for her to descend the stairs first. He wasn't trying to be a gentleman, he just didn't want to be the first to die.

Draco felt a bubble of excitement as he clomped down the stairs. It had been a long time since he had last gone on a vacation, and it warmed him to his heart that the Weasleys were willing to take him along for the ride. But he was fairly sure that wherever he went, he was going to get odd looks when he knew how to speak the language.

Draco hit the bottom stair deep in his thoughts, so when the noise from the living room assaulted his ears, he wasn't prepared. He stumbled back into Harry, his eardrums ringing. The other boy caught him easily, slipping his arms under Draco's to hold him up.

"Thanks, Potter," Draco gasped, lifting a hand to rub his now aching ears. He didn't even have to look over his shoulder to imagine the dark-haired boy's faint smirk.

"Anytime, Malfoy." Harry shoved Draco lightly in the back, and he steadied himself. Now that he and Hermione had come downstairs, the commotion had quieted down enough for Draco to hear himself think. He was amazed three people, aka Fred, George, and Ron could make so much noise. Ginny was still upstairs packing and Arthur was finishing up at the ministry, but they had already been filled in. The rest of the Weasley family weren't joining them on the trip because of timing and work.

"Finally," Fred said, looking mildly relieved. Or maybe George. After five years, Draco still had a hard time telling them apart. "We thought we'd have to wait forever for you two."

"Honestly, what were you doing up there?" George, or maybe Fred, asked.

"Packing," Draco said at the same time Hermione said, "Reading". He glanced at the brilliant witch, grinning at her.

"Well, whatever the case," Molly Weasley interrupted, bustling into the living room. "Now we can start." Ron had already been downstairs for some time, and he gave Hermione a dirty look as she sat next to him. She just tilted her head with that smug smile only she had mastered, and Ron switched his annoyed look to Draco. He raised his hands, flopping onto the only available couch with Harry a step behind him.

"Alright," Ron said, finally giving up on showing Draco his irritation. "So where are we going?"

"Please don't say somewhere cold," Harry muttered, quiet enough so Molly couldn't hear him. "I already packed my trunk."

"That would just your luck, wouldn't it, Potter?" Draco asked in the same quiet tone, giving the other boy a snarky grin. Harry just glanced over at him.

"You mean it would be both our lucks, Malfoy." Draco scowled, turning his attention back to Molly. Truth be told, Draco didn't mind that much. He was mostly just playing it up. Why, he had no idea, as it was clear they weren't really irritated at each other. Harry's leg was more or less draped over Draco's, and if Draco really wanted to, he could lift his arm and almost knock Harry's glasses off.

"Now, I hope you all packed for warm weather," Molly said, clasping her hands in front of her. "Because we are going to Costa Rica!"

"Yes!" Hermione yelped, just about falling off the couch. Ron grabbing her arm was the only thing that kept her from. "I guessed right and I started learning the basics of Spanish a little while ago!"

"Or we could just translate for you," Fred said pointedly. "Our dear dad knows Spanish."

 _I do too,_ Draco thought, but he kept that thought to himself. He couldn't wait to see the look on their faces as he started chatting with the locals. A warm feeling of happiness filled Draco's chest as he leaned back, watching the Weasley family and Hermione argue over translation issues. He had always wanted to get to use the languages he had learned, and now he was getting to for the first time on a vacation with his adopted family.

 _Plus a few extra,_ Draco reminded himself, his eyes flicking from Hermione to Harry. The dark-haired boy had a look on his face Draco assumed he himself did. It seemed they would both enjoy a quiet vacation. Then a horrific thought hit him, and he burst out,

"Wait, does this mean we're actually going to be wearing _trunks_? And go to the beach with them on?" The room went silent as several people realized what that would mean. Ron sunk lowered into his seat, but George piped up cheerfully,

"Sure does, Draco. Maybe you'll actually get a tan from that."

"Or maybe your face will join your hair," Hermione said, and the bickering continued. But Draco wasn't listening, as he had felt the blood drain from his face and was a bit preoccupied with feeling horrified. His feelings of utter despair weren't helped as Harry whispered in his ear,

"For your sake, I hope those years of Quidditch gave you muscles."

* * *

"It's so hot!" Ron said for probably the tenth time since they had arrived in Costa Rica. Draco sneered, growling under his breath as yet another tourist bumped into him. He bit back his snarky remark, promising himself that if Ron commented on the heat another time, he would use it. For now, the redhead didn't deserve it.

But the rest of these bloody tourists did.

The streets of Punta Arenas were packed with people shuffling around, laughing shrilly or chatting with friends. Draco wouldn't have minded as much except the trek to their hotel was only supposed to be a few minutes. And it had been over half an hour. He was almost tempted to go to the nearest local and talk to them himself.

"Oy, Draco, keep up." Draco realized he had been straggling behind and hurried to catch up at Fred's warning. "Almost there, thank Merlin."

"Thank Merlin," Draco agreed, coming to a stop behind Hermione. Molly and Arthur were talking to the doorman outside a small, but neat looking three story building. "So this is us." He knew he should be more appreciative, considering some of the more shabby buildings around. Even though this was a tourist trap, there were some rundown stores around. Draco decided he would properly thank Molly and Arthur once they were inside. But right now, he just wanted to get out of the heat. The horribly oppressive heat.

"-por supuesto. Sígueme." The doorman waved a hand at the door, and Molly and Arthur picked up their bags. The group shuffled towards the double doors, but Draco stumbled on a loose cobblestone, almost falling flat on his face. He swore under his breath, bending to pick up a bag. When he straightened, he found Hermione still standing nearby, flipping rapidly through her book.

"What does that mean?" she muttered to herself. She glanced up, and Draco had to choke back a laugh. "Oh." With an irritated huff, Hermione snapped her book shut and headed for the hotel. Draco chuckled, following her.

The lobby of the hotel was as neat as the outside had looked, and Draco was pleasantly surprised when the doorman showed them to their rooms. Because of expenses, Molly and Arthur had only gotten two rooms, but each had two bedrooms with multiple beds. Draco didn't know who they managed to all pack in, but Ginny and Hermione were stuck with the heads of the Weasleys themselves, while Ron, George, and Fred were stuck in the other room. Which meant that Draco and Harry were stuck sharing a room. Of course. Why this always happened, Draco had no idea.

"Nice place," Harry commented as he flopped onto one of the beds, much in the same manner he did at Hogwarts.

"Yeah," Draco said absently, sitting on the edge of the bed and scanning the map of Punta Arenas he had grabbed from the lobby. "Where do you think we're going while we're here?"

"Beach, probably." Harry leaned over Draco's shoulder, reading for himself. "Look, a boat rental agency. I want to rent a boat." Draco snorted.

"Pay for it yourself, Potter, those things are expensive." He brought the brochure up over his right shoulder, whacking Harry in the face. The dark-haired boy let out a noise of complaint, and Draco stood. "Tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley I'm going into town, I want to look around."

Harry grinned. "Not alone, you're not." Draco just blinked, and Harry chuckled, springing up from the bed. "I'm coming with you, I want to look around."

"Did someone say something about looking around?" Ron's head poked around the doorframe, and Draco sighed.

"Alright, fine, tag along if you want. Just don't start shopping halfway through."

Despite how hot it was, Draco really did like Punta Arenas. The streets were packed, as were the stores, but there was something in the air that made Draco feel amazing. Even his two companions, who insisted on stopping at every little thing, couldn't lower his mood.

"What's that say?" Ron wondered, pointing up at a sign.

Draco glanced up at it. _Cafe,_ he thought. "Don't know," he said aloud. "Looks like there's people with cold drinks in there."

"Let's make a quick stop here," Harry said, even as he dove for the door. Draco rolled his eyes, but followed the two other boys. The air conditioning hit him like a wave, and he let out a sigh of relief. This was much better. Once he got used to the cooler air, he looked around, finding Harry and Ron already at the counter. Draco started towards them.

"¡Discúlpeme señor!" Draco stopped abruptly, startled. Then he noticed a man with tanned skin and short dark hair hurrying towards him, looking mildly irritated. "No se permiten zapatos! Reglas de casa." Draco blinked, then pulled off his shoes, setting them by the door. The man took his turn to blink, stumbled to a stop and starting at Draco like he had two heads. "¿Entiende nuestra lengua?"

"Sí," Draco said amiably. "Mis disculpas por no quitarme los zapatos." The man stared for a few more seconds, then grinned broadly.

"No se preocupe, amigo! ¡Bienvenidos a mi cafetería! Yo soy Pacha." Pacha glanced over his shoulder and frowned at Harry and Ron. "¿Están contigo?"

"Sí, por favor perdónalos, son nuevos aquí," Draco said smoothly. He strode towards his friends, who were being as smooth as chunky peanut butter. "¿Podrías por favor traerles agua? Estoy seguro de que eso es lo que quieren."

"No one here speaks English," Ron said as Draco walked up to the bar. The redhead sat back, clearly frustrated. Draco couldn't blame him, if he didn't know Spanish, he'd probably be doing the same thing. But since he did, he was going to have to act irritated.

"Figures," he snapped, and Harry glanced up at him with an expression Draco couldn't quite read. "Can't we at least get some water here?" Pacha seemed to get the hint, and right on cue, three glasses of water slid down the bar and stopped in front of them. Harry and Ron both jumped, clearly surprised. Draco tried to act surprised, but he glanced over at Pacha and mouthed, " _Gracias._ " The man grinned widely, waving a hand.

Ron tried his best to thank the bartender, and luckily for Draco's pride, managed something close to the correct words. He had such horrible pronunciation it made Draco cringe, but the bartender didn't seem to mind and accepted Harry's offered tip with a smile. Draco quickly hurried them out of the cafe before they butchered Spanish any further, but he waved at Pacha as he left.

"That was an experience," Harry said once they were outside in the heat once more.. Ron nodded, but Draco just shrugged. He had thought Pacha was nice enough. Then he remembered he shouldn't be able to speak Spanish and hurriedly added,

"I guess. There's probably better out here."

"Maybe," Ron said. "But how did they know we wanted water?"

"It's over 100 out here, Weasel," Draco said dryly. "Everyone wants water." Ron frowned, but before the redhead could retort, another voice interrupted him.

"There you three are!" Draco turned, grinning as the rest of the Weasleys, and Hermione, of course, hurried towards them. Molly Weasley led the pack, giving Ron a relieved look. "I know you told us where you were going, but I was afraid we'd gone the wrong way!"

"It's a small island, mum," Ron muttered. "It can't be hard to find us."

"Actually, it's a peninsula," Hermione corrected, and Ron glared at her. "Really, Ron, do you not pay attention in class?"

"We never do," Fred and George said in unison. "And look how we turned out." With that, Fred, or maybe George, turned to the nearest vendor and said, "Hey, żcuánto?" The vendor looked a little shocked, but replied with a price Draco couldn't quite make out.

"You two know the language?" Hermione demanded, glaring at the twins. They both grinned, and the brilliant witch let out a frustrated growl. "You could have been helping me!" _Glad I haven't spoken any Spanish yet,_ Draco thought, slightly scared.

"They tried to teach it to me," Ginny piped up. "All I learned was how not to teach someone."

"It's true," George said, lifting a shoulder. "Even Ginny couldn't learn from us."

"And you never even tried to help me," Ron grumbled. Draco snickered, but Arthur gave the redhead a look, and Ron sighed. "Alright, fine, letting that go. Where are we going?"

"Dinner," Molly said brightly. Harry, who had been watching Hermione and the twins go back and forth with an expression that one would wear at an intense tennis match, snapped back to attention.

"Great," he said. "Where?"

* * *

Draco sat back, closing his eyes with a content sigh. He never thought he'd be so happy to eat food in his life. But with the heat came ravenous hunger. Luckily, the waitress seemed pleased that they liked their food and made no comment as she gathered up plates licked clean.

"That was delicious," Hermione said, also sitting back. "How do I-?" She pulled out her English to Spanish book and flipped through the pages. Draco watched as Hermione turned to the waitress as she came back the bill and confidently said, "Esta comida era insípido!" Draco covered his mouth as he held back a laugh, and the waitress' amused expression clearly showed she took no offense.

"Um, Hermione?" George said, a grin lurking at the corners of his mouth. "You didn't say the food was amazing."

"I know that's not what I said, George!" Hermione barked, and Draco couldn't help but laugh. Arthur leaned over, quickly telling Hermione what to actually say. The brilliant witch let out an irritated huff, then repeated the correct words. The waitress nodded graciously, clearing the last of the plates.

"How did you pass any of the ancient language tests?" Ron asked, giving Hermione an incredulous look. She glared at the redhead.

"I don't see you trying, Ronald."

"Alright, break it up," Harry said, leaning across Ginny and pushing the two apart. Draco didn't even try to do anything. He was enjoying watching the feud too much. Unfortunately, the dark-haired boy's intrusion snapped Hermione and Ron back to attention, and they looked away from each other. Draco sighed, disappointed.

"Really, Potter?" he said. "I was enjoying that." Harry grinned at him, but Ron interrupted with,

"So how do you think we feel when we're watching you and Harry go at it and we have to break you up?" Draco threw a napkin at the redhead.

"I wasn't talking to you, Weasel!" The table erupted in laughter and sarcasm, and Draco grinned widely as he verbally sparred with his friends. It wasn't until Arthur and Molly broke up the mini fight that they quieted down, and Draco was still grinning almost an hour later as he sat in their hotel, looking out the window at the moonlit city.

It hadn't even been a day since they had arrived and Draco was already having the time of his life. This was why he loved being with his friends. His life was so much better because of them.

Eventually, the slowly cooling air drove Draco to his bed, and he pulled the covers over his shoulders. A few minutes passed in silence, and Draco reluctantly closed his eyes. He hadn't realized Harry had fallen asleep while he'd been at the window.

"Hey, Malfoy?" Draco rolled over, about to make a sarcastic comment. But the grin Harry wore made the words die in his throat. "No es justo que digas que Ron y yo somos nuevos aquí cuando es tu primera vez también."

When the rest of the Weasley family and Hermione were driven from their beds by the sound of shouting and loud laughter, they would enter Draco and Harry's room to see Draco sitting on Harry's stomach trying his best to strangle the dark-haired boy.

* * *

 **And cut! Well? What did you guys think? Please drop a review before you move on to your next fic, and if you have an idea, as shown here, don't be afraid to share! Until next time, Bird out!**


	4. 8th Year- Pet Names

AN/ **Two words for y'all. Drarry. Name-calling. Nothing new, right? Now, three words for y'all. Drarry. Pet names. You might have seen this headcannon floating around on the internet, but hey, I figured it warranted a chapter ;). Side note: I am ignoring most of the content of both HPDHs, just to make to life easier for this chapter. And I am subscribing to the headcannon that Harry is a very mischievous person when he wants to be, aka when he's with Draco. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: Not J.K. Rowling. Do I really need to keep putting this here?

* * *

Draco examined the chess board, ignoring the repetitive drum of his opponent's fingers against the table. He frowned, scanning his remaining pieces. There had to be a way to pull this off. His opponent's fingers finally stopped their drumming, to be replaced with a stare that burned a hole in Draco's forehead. Not that he was paying attention to that.

"Malfoy, are you going to go before the year is over?"

Draco snorted, sparing a condescending look at his dark-haired opponent.

"Unlike you, Potter, I actually use strategy for this game. I have no idea how Weasel ever beats you."

"I use strategy," Harry said defensively. Draco didn't grace that statement with a snarky reply. It would be a waste of both their breaths, as it was clear who the superior player here was. At least to Draco it was. He rolled his eyes as Harry went back to drumming the table, and he reached out, about to move the piece that he had spotted. Harry visibly perked up, but before Draco could move his piece, a shadow fell over his hand.

He looked up, and a lump of dread suddenly clogged his throat. McGonagall was standing over them, looking down with an expression Draco couldn't quite read. He glanced over at Harry, but the dark-haired teen looked as confused and concerned as Draco felt.

"What it is, Professor?" Harry asked for them. McGonagall looked between them for a few seconds, then said,

"You two are in the same house. You've known each other for years, you're both eighth years, for Merlin's sake. Yet I've never once heard you call each other by anything but your last names."

 _But you also didn't see when Harry was actually alive after he had been proclaimed and I ran up to him and hugged him,_ Draco thought dryly. _Or when I broke away from our ranks to give him my wand. Or the few times I've called him Harry or he's called me Draco._ But he kept those thoughts to himself and tried his best to not smirk as McGonagall kept talking.

"Do you have any idea how odd for a younger Gryffindor that would be?"

"Er, Professor?" Harry said hesitantly. "I understand what you mean, but what does that have to do with Malfoy and me?" McGonagall just stared at the dark-haired teen for a few seconds, and Draco started to worry that his chess partner was about to be murdered before his eyes. Then McGonagall's expression changed into something akin to amusement.

"Well, you just explained it yourself." Harry blinked, and Draco decided to ask the more prominent question.

"Is there something you want us to change?" McGonagall's eyes glittered, and for one of the first times in his life, Draco didn't like that he had been right.

"No more last names only. Promote house unity and start acting like friends." Draco started to open his mouth to protest, but McGonagall cut him off. "And should I catch you using Potter's last name, expect detention promptly following." With that, the head of Gryffindor house walked off.

Draco slumped in his seat. Great. Just bloody amazing. This wasn't going to be horrible at all. Honestly, he did use Harry's first name. But the only people who knew that were Hermione, Ron, and maybe Ginny. Now he was going to have to say it in front of the entire school.

"Love, would you take your turn? I'm getting old here." Draco started, staring across the table at Harry. He hadn't heard that right. Surely he hadn't heard that right. The dark-haired teen just looked back at him, mischief shining in his eyes. Then Draco caught onto the idea Harry had and he smirked, reaching out to play his turn.

"Of course, wouldn't want you dying here." Harry grinned, leaning forward to watch Draco move the piece. "Oh, and Harry?" Draco knocked Harry's king over, using the exact move he had spent the past three moves setting up. "Checkmate, my dear boy who lived."

* * *

"Love, where are my notes?" Draco tilted down his book, looking over the top at the other Gryffindor. Harry was patting the couch around where he sat. Eventually, he looked up at Draco, his eyes sparkling with confusion. Draco sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Here." Draco picked the pile of notes up off the couch next to him and held it out to the dark-haired teen sitting across from him. Harry stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled slightly.

"Thanks." Harry plucked the stack from Draco's hand and continued writing, only sparing a second to glance up at Draco and give him an easy smile. Draco smirked back, leaning back into the couch and turning a page. Several people in the room shifted uncomfortably, like they didn't know to do with this new side of their two housemates. Draco just continued smirking, going back to his book.

He wasn't exactly sure why he was playing along with the game Harry had started a few days ago in the Great Hall. But he wasn't complaining. He didn't really mind that much, and besides, his housemates' slightly shocked expressions were more than enough of a reward for playing.

Draco clutched the edges of his book as he looked down to jot a thought down. Where were his notes? He fought back a roll of his pale eyes, looking up at his study companion.

"Why do you think you can get away stealing my notes?" Harry blinked in what Draco assumed was an attempt to feign innocence. He snorted, nodding at the neater written notes buried in the pile that now sat next to the dark-haired teen. Harry looked down, a smile creeping across his face. Apparently, he hadn't noticed. Draco groaned, hitting his book against his forehead. "Oh, Harry, please, no."

"Want them?"

"Merlin, no, not now. Harry, I have essays due and-"

"Come get them." There it was. The challenge Harry had laid down for Draco for years. Whenever they studied, Harry would always steal Draco's notes. Sometimes, the dark-haired teen would give them back when asked. But most times, he would make Draco fight for them. Normally in the form of running across the castle until he could catch the shorter demon.

"Merlin." Draco rubbed his temples, giving Harry a scathing look. "I can't deal with you right now. Hand them over or I will hex you into oblivion." Draco knew he was more or less breaking the act they had been playing, but at this point, he didn't care. He just wanted to finish his essay and get to sleep at a reasonable time tonight.

Harry looked at him for a few seconds. Then he stood, just wandering around the table and placing Draco's notes on his closed book. Draco looked up at the dark-haired teen, confused. He had not expected that at all. Certainly not after the hype he built up.

"You know, love, you'd have a lot more friends if you didn't threaten them when you got annoyed." Harry walked off, his fingers trailing across Draco's shoulder as he went. And for some reason, Draco didn't feel the need to pull out his wand and hex the other 8th year until he couldn't even walk without help. He just chuckled and went back to his book.

Then he reread the same sentence three times as several people in the common room burst out in whispers. Draco bit back a snarl. What was so interesting? Did these people not see he was trying to study? He lifted his book until it covered his face, barely leaving his eyes visible. He scanned the room, trying to gauge their reactions to whatever was so interesting.

A few of the younger years were huddled in groups. They could be talking about anything. A few older years, and they all went back to talking to each other when Draco looked at them. Then Draco's eyes stumbled across Ron and Hermione standing in the entryway of the common room, looking at him with wide eyes. Draco dropped his book, gesturing for them to come over.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron demanded the second he sat down. Hermione slapped Ron's arm, then turned back to Draco.

"Sorry, I've tried to teach him tact, but it hasn't seemed to work yet," she explained, and Draco grinned at Ron's indignant expression. "But I have to agree with him, Draco. What was all that about?"

"All what?" Draco asked slowly. When Ron and Hermione stared at him, he went back to his book. If his friends weren't going to tell him what was on their minds, he might as well keep reading. He was going to have to stay up late enough as it was.

"'All what'?" Ron spluttered. "What was Harry doing calling you 'love'?!" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh relax, Weasel, he's still and always will be your best mate."

"That's not what I was worried about!" Ron snapped, his cheeks flushing slightly. Hermione gave Ron an amused look, then turned a confused frown on Draco.

"Do you and Harry have a bet going or something, Draco?" Draco shook his head, confused as to why Hermione was still wasting time on this subject. He would have thought the brilliant witch would have better things to spend her time on. "Really? Nothing? You're just choosing to do this?"

"If you mean by this-" Draco brandished his book in his friends' faces. "Then yes. I still have to study, and at this rate I'm going to be up all night." Draco reached down to pick up one of his notes. He groaned as he found one of his most important notes missing. He shifted, looking over his shoulder and glaring at the stairs that led up to the boys' dormitory. "HARRY!" he shouted. A few seconds passed in silence.

"What?" Harry's voice drifted down the stairs, closely followed by its owner. Draco waved his notes, and Harry grinned. "Yeah, those are your notes. So? Thought you got more sleep than this, love." Draco growled, tossing his book at the other 8th year's head. Harry laughed, ducking and letting the leather-bound object of death fly over his head.

"You better give it back," Draco warned without looking up. He quickly shuffled through his notes to make sure Harry hadn't taken anything else he desperately needed.

"Of course." Draco heard retreating footsteps, and he let out an exasperated sigh. Harry was hopeless.

"Uh, Draco?" He looked up at Ron and Hermione, who were both gawking at something behind him.

"What?" he asked. Then something heavy dropped onto the couch next to him, startling Draco and making him yelp. He toppled forward off the couch, landing sprawled on the floor. Luckily, his notes didn't go down with him, but a touch of irritation immediately blossomed in his chest. "Potter..." he snarled, clenching his fists and glaring up at the ceiling. The dark-haired teen's laughter drifted over him, and a second later, Harry crouched next to him, grinning widely.

"Jumpy much, love?" he asked cheerfully, dangling the one note Draco needed the most in front of his face. He snatched for it, but Harry pulled it back. "Sorry, using this first," the dark-haired teen explained. "You won't mind, right?"

"Give. Me. That." Draco sat up, lunging for Harry's hand. To his amazement, he managed to latch onto the other 8th year's arm, and he ripped his crumpled note from Harry's hand. But the dark-haired teen retaliated immediately, and Draco found himself wrestling with his housemate for his note. Eventually, Draco managed to jerk away from the other teen, and he raced out of the common room, feeling a rush of delight shoot through him. So this was what Harry always felt like when he took Draco's notes.

"Draco, get back here!" Harry's shout echoed through the stairs, and Draco skidded to a stop, looking up at the other 8th year. Harry was still standing on the balcony in front of the Fat Lady, watching Draco with something that could be called a smile.

"You want these?" Draco called, even not even trying to hide his smile. "Then come get them!" Harry snorted, but started down the stairs, slowly at first, then flinging himself down each step. Draco turned and continued his race down the staircase.

Habit found him sprinting for the lake, and he launched himself out onto the grounds, almost knocking over a group of Hufflepuffs as he went. The younger students made noises of confusion, but Draco ignored them. He could heard Harry getting closer and closer.

"GOTCHA!" Draco turned at the shout, but in the two seconds it took him to glance over his shoulder, he realized it was a trap. Harry threw himself at Draco, and he went down with a huff. He gasped as the dark-haired teen landed on his stomach, stealing all the air from his lungs. The other 8th year was wheezing just as hard, and for a few seconds, they just sat there, Draco on the ground, breathing hard, Harry sitting on Draco's stomach, clutching his chest.

"That wasn't worth it," Draco panted eventually. "How do you work up the energy to do that every time we study, Harry?"

"Dunno," Harry replied breathlessly, leaning down and plucking the note from Draco's hand. "Guess I find seeing you steaming funny."

"It's not," Draco said. He would have snapped the words except he didn't the air to do as much. "Give me that." Thus ensued a halfhearted slap fight, but Harry ended up giving Draco his note back. Finally. Draco flopped back onto the grass. "Thank you. Now would you mind getting off my stomach?" Harry grinned down at him, but Draco just sighed. He gave the dark-haired teen a hard shove, and the other 8th year went toppling off.

"Really, Draco, I thought you were starting to get less uptight," Harry said, not even having lost his grin.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Clearly, my dear, you don't someone who's stressing when you see them."

"Or I've seen them too much," Harry corrected, standing and offering a hand. Draco took it and pulled himself up, meeting Harry's amused gaze evenly. The dark-haired teen's mouth was curled in a smirk, and Draco wasn't sure what was entertaining Harry so much.

"Something funny, love?" Draco asked, stealing Harry's pet name for him. Harry's smile grew more pronounced.

"You." Draco sighed, shoving the dark-haired teen aside and starting back towards the castle.

"Enough, Harry!" he called over his shoulder. "I need to study tonight!"

"So does that mean you'll just hex me if I steal your notes?"

"Yes!" Draco barked, turning and giving Harry a glare.

"Oh c'mon love," Harry laughed, falling into step with Draco and putting an arm on his shoulder. "It helps you loosen up!"

"'Love'?" Draco froze, Harry a second behind him. He gave the dark-haired teen a horrified look, then turned slowly, watching as McGonagall advanced down the corridor, her hands folded in front of her and one thin eyebrow raised. "Did I hear that correctly, Potter?"

"Er..." Harry gave Draco a slightly frantic look, but he could think of nothing that could help his companion. "Yes, professor. Is something wrong?" McGonagall said nothing, just looking between then two of them. Finally, a smile turned the corners of her mouth.

"No, not at all. Carry on." The head of Gryffindor house walked off, her posture its usual rigid line and her hands still folded in front of her. But Draco had sworn he saw a small smile on McGonagall's face. He stared at the professor's back, positive he looked like a startled fish.

"So that happened," Harry said eventually. That broke Draco out of his trance, and he started back towards the common room.

"It did," he agreed tersely. "Now hurry up, Harry, I need to study tonight. As I've told you."

Draco ended up staying up all night studying, for which he blamed Harry. For the next few weeks, Harry refused to drop his pet names for Draco, and so, because he had to make sure Harry was getting a taste of his own medicine, Draco also kept calling the dark-haired teen pet names. Eventually, their housemates, and indeed, the rest of the school got used to it.

One night, Draco got tired of Harry bugging him, and promptly said, "Love, do shut up." The dark-haired teen replied with such a simple phrase, most people would have taken it for granted. But the devious smile he wore told Draco a completely different story.

"Make me."

Draco did. With a well-placed hex to Harry's chest. The son of a three-legged dog went down laughing, and Draco decided the hex wasn't enough. He whacked Harry with a pillow, and the other Gryffindor just grinned up at him.

"Oh enough, love, we have better things to do with our time."

* * *

 **And end this hilarious chapter. Hope you guys liked that, I certainly had a blast writing it! Please drop a review, as I'm kinda worried I strayed from their personalities here. Any thoughts? Until next time, Bird out!**


	5. 5th Year- Sleepless

AN/ **Y'know, I should just change that bit of the title being contextual Drarry, because this one is a full on DRARRY BABY. Pre-slash, I'll admit, but still! Alright, I promise I'll go back to normal with the next one :P**

 **Ironically written when my body turned traitor and made me into an insomniac. Not much to say here, just one word for y'all. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I am running on very little sleep. I have better things to worry about than this.

* * *

Draco started his morning by running into a pillar. Of course, he didn't actually start his morning by getting out of bed and crashing into a wall of stone, but it certainly felt that way to him. One moment, he had been walking down the hallway half asleep, with Ron and Hermione flanking him, and the next, he found himself clutching his nose, standing in front of a pillar.

"Not see that pillar, did you, ferret?" Ron commented brightly.

"Shut up, Weasel," Draco muttered, still clutching his nose. When he removed his hand, blood dripped from the tips of his fingers. "Great," he sighed. "Now I'm going to get my robes all bloody."

"What was that?" Hermione asked, handing him a handkerchief she had apparently been carrying around in her bag for this very occasion. "You don't usually run into things, Draco, even when you're reading or talking to us."

"It was nothing," Draco mumbled, even as he stuffed the cloth into his nose. "Just didn't sleep well."

"How does that account for running into a pillar smack on the side of a hallway?" Ron asked, clearly unconvinced. Draco stayed quiet for a few seconds. He didn't want to worry his friends with the truth, but then again, he needed a convincing excuse for as to why he had walked into a pillar and would probably be falling asleep in class.

"Didn't sleep well," he repeated eventually, lifting a shoulder. It was close enough to the truth that they should buy it.

"Uh huh." Ron still sounded skeptical, and judging by the way Hermione crossed her arms, she wasn't fooled either. Draco didn't care, as long as they didn't question him. His friends would probably ask why he couldn't walk by himself later, but that gave him time to think up a better excuse.

"Let's get moving," Draco suggested, already several steps ahead of his two housemates. "Harry'll have probably eaten all of the food on the table by now." As it turned out, he hadn't. Draco entered the Great Hall to find it half empty. He wasn't really that surprised, most of the students had left for the spring break. He and Harry had stayed to avoid their families, and both Hermione's and Ron's parents were doing things over the two week break. Draco wasn't complaining. He cherished any time he had with his friends.

"Morning mates," Harry said cheerfully, looking up as they approached. His eyes flicked over Ron, then moved to Hermione, and finally landed on Draco. He immediately frowned, his mouth contorting into a concerned frown. "Merlin, Draco, what happened?"

"The ferret walked into a pillar," Ron said, slightly less brightly than he had before. Draco said nothing to contradict the redhead's explanation, and he sat next to Harry without a word. The dark-haired boy shifted to look at him, his fingers carefully floating around Draco's nose. Draco thought he saw a trace of fatigue in the other boy's eyes, but he didn't comment on the matter.

"I wouldn't do that," Hermione warned from her spot across the table. "It started bleeding pretty badly." She gave Draco a worried look. "Are you sure there's nothing we should know?"

"Yeah, yeah no, I'm fine," Draco lied. He knew he wasn't fooling anyone. He clearly was not fine. "Can all of you leave me alone for a few minutes? I want some breakfast before we start Defense Against the Dark Arts." His friends reluctantly obeyed, and Draco tore into a piece of toast. Just because he was exhausted didn't mean he wasn't hungry.

Breakfast was over far too quickly, and Draco was thrust into his day of classes with a stomach full only with a few bites of egg and a piece of toast, and maybe an hour of sleep. To his surprise, classes did not drag on painfully, and the 20 minute power naps he got in throughout the day did his foggy mind wonders. Though he had to admit he was lucky Hermione took notes for him, or he would have been boned.

By the time dinner rolled around, Draco was feeling much better. He managed to inhale a steak and a piece of pie, but his friends still seemed worried. With good reason, as Draco could rival Ron when it came to their appetites.

The quiet time every Gryffindor spent frantically doing their homework ticked by, and night fell over the grounds. Suddenly, Draco found himself alone in the common room. Everyone else had long since gone to bed, but he was left awake. He stared at the fire, his hands cold and his eyes wide open. And thus his nightly problem began.

Draco had developed a case of insomnia.

It had begun a bit over a week ago, but the tolls it had taken on him made it feel like months had passed. Draco was exhausted, this he knew well. But when the time came to put his head down, his eyes always stayed open, or if he closed them, wouldn't stay that way. He had mostly given up on trying to sleep, and most days, would simply sit in the window with a book. It was the best way he could think of to pass the time.

Draco sighed, heaving himself from the common room chair and shuffling to the stairs. He climbed them slowly, and upon reaching the dorm door, pushed it open gingerly.

His dorm-mates were sleeping, as he had expected. Ron was snoring his heart out on his bed, Neville had curled into a blanket cocoon, Dean was doing something with his hands in his dream, Seamus was sprawled across his bed, and Harry-

Was standing by the window, looking out across the grounds. Draco blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected anyone to be up. He eased the door shut behind him, and Harry turned. He gave Draco a faint smile.

"Evening," he said softly.

"What are you doing up?" Draco asked in the same soft tone. He joined Harry by the window, and the dark-haired boy gave him an even look.

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy." Draco sighed, leaning against the edge of the windowsill. Harry watched him silently, and for several seconds, they stood there wordlessly. "You don't have to tell me," Harry said eventually, looking past Draco and out the window. "I think the fact that we're both standing here is proof enough of our condition."

"And our condition is?" Draco asked.

"Insomnia," Harry replied immediately, his eyes fixed on something outside the window. "The inability to sleep. 'Mione has mentioned a few potions that can do the same thing. She said stressed Ministry workers use them when they need to stay awake for days on end."

"Is there one that puts people to sleep for days on end?" Draco grumbled, half cynically and half curiously. Harry gave him another faint smile, but the turned corners of his mouth were made more prominent by the pale moonlight illuminating his face.

"Never heard of that. Thought you would have, Potions master." Draco snorted.

"I wish."

They fell back into silence, but Draco didn't mind. Just having the presence of another person was enough to put his mind at ease. He lifted his eyes to examine his companion's face, frowning as he took in details. Harry's face was devoid of emotion, but the dark bags under his eyes were painfully obvious. His skin was too pale, both from the moonlight and lack of sleep, and his eyes radiated exhaustion.

Draco hoped he didn't look that bad.

"How long?" he asked, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck with the dark-haired boy.

"Couple of days. You?"

"A little over a week." Harry nodded, turning his gaze onto Draco.

"Thought as much." Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Harry cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You could have at least told us." Again, Draco tried to protest, but Harry cut him off yet again. "Yes, I know, you didn't want to worry us, but Hermione probably could have found a cure by now."

"You're such a hypocrite," Draco muttered. "You're standing here at the same ungodly hour I am." Harry cracked a small grin.

"Perfect description of me." Draco snorted, but didn't pursue the subject. He looked around at the rest of the sleeping room, making sure they were asleep. Then he grabbed the book that sat on his side table. He slid onto the windowsill, ignoring Harry's curious gaze. "Why are you climbing onto the window?"

"Because I want to read," Draco said, opening his book without looking up. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're ignoring me."

Draco snapped his book shut, giving Harry an irritated look. "Forgive me if I don't pay attention to you every single minute of my life," he snapped, gesturing with his free hand. "Do you want to sit up here next to me and read along?" Harry gave him a hopeful look, and Draco sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, fine. But this window isn't big enough for two, come over to my bed."

"The window is big enough," Harry protested as he trailed Draco to his bed. Draco sat with a smug smirk, and Harry let out a defeated breath. "Okay, true enough. Move over then, Malfoy, you can't take up the whole bed."

"I can too," Draco said, feeling oddly childish as he said the words. Harry glanced up at him.

"Can't."

"Can."

"Can't."

"Just shut up and read, Potter." Draco returned his attention back to his book, and Harry rested his chin on Draco's left shoulder. At first, he shifted, uncomfortable with the dark-haired boy literally breathing down his neck. But the time they had read a few chapters, Draco was used to it. So much so that he was acutely aware when Harry moved.

"What are you doing?" he asked as the dark-haired boy laid down on his bed. Harry opened one eye, giving Draco a bored look.

"I'm laying down. What does it look like?"

"This isn't your bed," Draco reminded him, choosing to ignore the fact that Harry had just taken the phrase Draco had used a little while ago. The dark-haired boy lifted a shoulder.

"So? Mine is way over there." _Way over there being a few steps across this bloody room,_ Draco thought, but out loud, he said nothing. If Harry was really that tired, he'd leave the other boy to his antics. "Draco? Could you lay down too?"

At that simple request, Draco choked on thin air, almost got whiplash from turning to look at Harry so fast, and dropped his book on his toes. "What?" he hissed, half from pain, half from shock. And it was only after he'd let out his demand he realized that Harry had called him by his first name.

"You're warm, and I'm feeling cold. Could you lay down?"

Draco just stared at the other boy. He was almost a hundred percent positive he had heard that correctly. He wasn't _that_ tired. After several seconds of contemplation and a very strong internal battle, he grunted and reluctantly slid down to lay next to Harry. The dark-haired boy let out a content sigh, tucking his chin against Draco's shoulder. "Thanks."

"Sure," Draco said, any biting remarks he could have made dying in his throat. He did have to admit that Harry's cool skin was a stark contrast to his boiling blood, and it was slowing down his mind. Was it possible that laying next to Harry could actually cure his insomnia?

"Draco?"

"What?"

"Goodnight."

Draco struggled to speak, but when the words came out, they were genuine and fond. "Goodnight, you moron." He picked his book up off the covers, but his eyes were rapidly closing. Draco attempted to read for about five more minutes before he gave up and reached across Harry to place said book on his side table. Harry grumbled, but made no further comment about being disturbed.

Draco stared up at the ceiling with heavy eyes. This was usually the time he found himself unable to shut off his mind. But now, his brain was slowing to a near stop, shutting down any non-vital functions and sending Draco spiraling into a world of welcome darkness.

The darkness was broken far too quickly by faint light crossing over Draco's eyelids. He scowled, grumbling incoherently and rolling over in an attempt to block out the light. Once he did, he got a murmured comment from a person laying behind him.

"You can't stop the light from coming in, Malfoy." Draco didn't process Harry's words for several seconds. Once his brain caught up with his ears, he just reached over his shoulder and shoved at the other boy.

"Get out of my bed, Potter," he mumbled. Harry did no such thing, and it took Ron starting to stir for both of them to spring to their feet and go racing around the dorm room. Draco wasn't embarrassed. Of course he wasn't. More than a little shocked and flustered was closer to his current state of mind. But for the first time in nearly a week, he went down to the Great Hall feeling alive again.

Hermione immediately noted the change, and she made sure Draco knew she knew as well.

"You're looking perky," she said as Draco sat down. He shrugged, making sure to not catch the eye of the dark-haired boy sitting across from him.

"Guess I just got a better night of sleep," Draco said evenly, and he promptly dropped the matter as breakfast appeared before his eyes.

The rest of his day was considerably better than previous ones, as he managed to stay awake through all of his classes, with the exception of History. That was one subject he would never excel in.

When it came time to pack up his quill and parchment and head to bed, Draco did so without a single worry entering his mind. The worries quickly returned as he stared up at the ceiling with a mind whirling in circles, and suddenly, it occurred to him it might have been an one time trick. Then Harry silently pulled back the curtains and slipped under the covers next to him.

"Potter, what are you doing?" Draco asked without any real venom.

"I want to be able to sleep tonight," Harry said easily. "So shut up, Malfoy."

Draco huffed, but did so. Harry was right, sleeping was more important than arguing at this point. He would kick the dark-haired boy out of his bed the second both their insomnia went away.

The very second.

* * *

 **And yet another adventure ends! Well? Hate, love, meh? Please let me know! Reviews keep my muse appeased. Until next time, Bird out!**


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